Fiction or Reality?
by eminentcheong
Summary: "Of course it hasn't ever occurred to Miss Galinda that she should not have been rummaging through my drawers in the first place!" Elphaba has a secret hobby. A secret hobby that has been discovered. One-sided Fiyeraba, Shiz-era.


**A/N: This one is just expressing my prediction of what might happen if the people associated with me discovered that I somewhat write. (Muffinsweep11, you arse) Hope this isn't too cringe-worthy! Might be a little out-of-character, i.e Elphaba the Flunking Witch of the West and Nessarose the Tattletale of the East…**

* * *

The brilliance of newborn rays, as if celebrating the birth of a new day, poured into a particular dormitory in Crage Hall, offering promises of hope and joy. Oh, the irony.

"Oz, I didn't _mean_ to! I discovered them in your drawers, and they were so well-written I couldn't help but let Nessa read them! You know how she loves a good piece of literature."

Galinda's high-pitched voice grated irritatingly on her ears and Elphaba glared at her with increasing hostility.

"Of _course_ it hadn't ever occurred to Miss Galinda that she should not have been rummaging through my drawers in the first place!"

Elphaba could not shrug off the thoughts of rage rising within her. Unbelievably livid, she clenched her fists so hard that the whites of her knuckles could be seen. She then continued accusing Galinda of 'violating her constitutionally protected right to personal privacy'.

Galinda looked at her blankly, although she was taking Ozian Government that semester. "I was on a hunt for my eyeshadow applicators!"

"Like I would borrow anything of yours. Especially something that had been near your big bulbous eyeballs." Elphaba snapped, overcome with devastation as she thought fearfully of what Nessa would do. "She's going to freaking write to Frex now!"

Instead of her make-up applicators, Galinda had found that month's worth of fiction and presented them to Nessa at dinner that night.

* * *

"Well," Nessa said, on account of the fact that the written works were in Elphaba's History notebook, in a very dry voice. "Now we know how you got that D plus in History, don't we, Fabala?"

Elphaba grimaced, holding her hands up in an act of surrender. She instead centered her attention on the freshly-made dumplings sitting on a plate as her sister droned on. The skin was fried to the perfect crispiness – golden brown, the slightly oily surface glistening—

"Who knew that Elphaba – _Elphaba – _of all people wrote romance?" This was followed by chuckles and guffaws.

Reluctantly, Elphaba was roused out of her wistful thoughts as Boq decided to add his two-cents worth to the conversation. _Not even worth two cents_, Elphaba scowled to herself.

"Elphaba, is this story supposed to be of Tenmeadows, the up and rising film star?" Boq piped up relentlessly. "Who's his female counterpart... _Milla_?"

He was promptly ignored.

"Nikidik is a stupid professor." Elphaba spat indignantly, sounding like they were missing the point.

"Doctor Nikidik isn't stupid," Nessa waved her arms about in exasperation. This movement caused her chair's wheels to squeak in a cacophony of melody, vastly contrasting with the annoying chatter of students in the cafeteria. For a moment, Elphaba silently willed the wheelchair to topple over. Her sister clearly respected that disgusting old man.

Elphaba begged to differ. But she wasn't willing to share the tale of how she and Fiyero stole - aided - the Lion Cub from the jaws of animalism. Her face flushed with guilt just thinking about it. Nessa, for one, did not support Elphaba devotion to her cause of Animal rights.

"Whatever," Elphaba shrugged nonchalantly. "Did you know that he capitalizes all of his verbs? How am I supposed to read how he uh, writes on the board?"

"How unreasonable. Anyway," Nessa flipped to the front of the notebook. "What have we here?"

"I didn't know you wrote fantasy fiction, Elphie," Boq chimed in unhelpfully.

He was ignored again. Elphaba hooked her bony arms over the high back of the Velvet sofa she was seated on and cupped her face in her hands.

Fiyero, who had just arrived from a lecture that had ran overtime, ruffled his head of golden sunshine uncertainly. "Elphaba, what were you doing, writing fiction of Milla on the back of a horse with that guy from the Gilikin?"

"I think this will explain it, Master Tiggular," Nessa passed the notebook to him.

"Why didn't you write anything about me, Fae?" Fiyero teased, flipping randomly through the plethora of essays. Elphaba's heart started to palpitate wildly against her chest at this point of time, and snatched the book away from him violently. She didn't care to share that she refused all story plots that included the Vinkun prince and yet another giggly fan girl.

"In my defense, the people of our generation live in a capitalistic society and I am merely enacting my rights of individual initiative by supplying most of the female student population of Shiz University with a product for which I, uh, see there is a demand." Elphaba faltered, lacking the absolute and convincing certitude her voice usually carried.

Fiyero did not understand this. Neither did Boq, who was majoring in economy. As Boq pried the book from Elphaba's grasp, he read aloud from it in an astonished voice. Elphaba could tell he did not understand at all.

"You and Aaron Tveit," Boq read, "fifteen dollars. You and Aaron Tveit on a desert island, twenty dollars. You and Norbert Leo Butz, ten dollars. You and Norbert Leo Butz under a waterfall, fifteen dollars. You and—" Boq looked up from the book. "Why is Aaron worth more than Norbert?"

"Because," Elphaba explained patiently, "Norbert has less hair."

"Oh," Boq went back to the list. "I see." However, Nessa didn't let him go on for much longer.

"Clearly, dear Elphaba is having trouble concentrating during History. The reason why she is having trouble concentrating in History appears to be because she is suffering from not having an outlet for all her creative energy. I believe if such an outlet were provided for her, her grades in History would improve dramatically." Nessa raised her eyebrows, lips in a grim line. "I have written to Father, and he has agreed that he would wish for you to concentrate on your studies while you are at Shiz. Ergo, Monday, Thursdays and Sundays, from six to seven-thirty, you will now be taking creative writing lessons, green woman."

Elphaba groaned, burying her face in the folds of her emerald arms melodramatically.

She had spent many blissful hours writing about magic apples that could cure any diseases if smelt once, telescopes that could show one anything in the world that one wanted to see and the feat of inserting names of undeserving people in these tales. If they paid, of course. Elphaba enjoyed ripping off Galinda's cronies, bimbos whom she knew couldn't resist a sappy romance-imaginative fiction starring said females.

Elphaba wished that someone would give her a magic apple like the one she had written about. And a magic telescope.

Once, she had confided in her father about her secret wish.

_"Then I could make Nessie better, and we could see where Mother was, and if she was all right," little Elphaba had exclaimed excitedly._

_"Don't be foolish." Frexspar had said in a hurried, irritable tone. "It is a sin to believe in these wicked items conjured by witchcraft."_

_Elphaba had nodded, feeling foolish. She hadn't told Frexspar that deep down inside, she believed that magic could happen. No, that it did happen. That it was happening all the time, all around them, except that most people didn't know about it. Her vision was to figure out how to grab it and make it carry her along too. Her entire life would change, she was sure of it._

But however would she ever be able to stay true to her own vision, with someone hovering over her shoulder telling her what to do?

"The Unnamed God is against spinning fictitious lies, Elphaba. But alas," Nessa sniffed haughtily. "to err is human, to forgive divine. If the Unnamed God will forgive you, so shall I."

Nessa intoned the message in a manner that signaled the end of any discussion. Elphaba lost, again.

* * *

"Thanks a bunch," Elphaba said bitterly to Galinda, when she ran into her a little while later in the bathroom they shared. Galinda was coating her eyelashes with strengthening and lengthening gel for the eighth time that day.

Galinda looked past the spoolie wand at her. "What'd _I_ do?"

"I can't believe you," Elphaba gesticulated furiously, muttering a couple of obscenities that made Galinda's ears turn pink. "You told on me about the whole writing thing!"

"Lurline, you short-tempered Munchkin," Galinda started to work on her lower lashes. "Don't tell me you're upset about that. I totally did you a favour."

"A _favour_?" Elphaba let her jaw drop, appalled. Exactly how small was this Upland's brain? "I got into big trouble because of what you did! Now I have to go to some stupid lame creative writing class thrice a week, when I could be, you know... _studying_."

Galinda rolled her eyes. "Elphie. You don't get it, do you? You're my best friend. I can't just stand by and let you become - remain - the biggest freak of the entire school. You won't participate in extracurriculars. You wear that _hideodious_ black all the time. Black is not this year's pink. You won't let me fix your hair. You stuff it under a _beanie_ captioned '_Angst Child_'. I mean, I had to do _something_. This way, who knows? Maybe you'll be a famous writer. Like Georgia OzKeeffle."

"Georgia OzKeeffle is an artist." Elphaba pointed out. "And do you even know what she's famous for painting, Galinda? Organic abstract images of lush representations of flowers that are strongly sexual in symbolic content."

"What?" Galinda cocked her head to the side in a confused manner. "Translate that in English, Elphie, English."

"Vaginas."

"Oh."

Without another word, Elphaba turned her back on the dismal situation and vowed to get her back on the culprit who had humiliated and shamed her. Flush all her lip glosses down the loo, perhaps.

_Well, at least,_ a small voice crept its way to Elphaba's ear. _At least they didn't find the one of you and Fiyero. Be grateful_.

Elphaba shuddered. Her inner voice was right – she had to be thankful for _that_, she supposed.

Before she drifted off to dreamland that night, Galinda swore she saw Elphaba tearing a piece of parchment from her book, before casting it into the fireplace, where it was consumed by the last of the dying embers.

* * *

***twiddles fingers* Any favourite quotes? (:**


End file.
